Bad Kidz
by Momo-Senpai
Summary: Sasori is a stubborn sixteen year old girl dumped in a mental hospital by her failure of a mother after a suicide attempt. There she meets the Akatsuki - and more importantly, the beautiful redhead Gaara. Will her life change forever? Fem!Sasori. Contains angst, bad humour, romance, sexual content, and hopefully a happy ending. SasoGaa, GaaSaso, SasoDei, DeiSaso. AkatsukixSasori.


Bad Kidz

Chapter One

Bright lights. It's all she can see – flashes of colour and glaring brightness that make her eyes water. She scrunches up into a ball. Her head hurts. Maybe she should die, just to stop that ache in her skull.

She opens her eyes. Coloured blobs dance across her line of sight.

"Mama!" Her voice wails, "Mama, Mama, Mama!"

No reply. Of course not.

Her mother preferred to go out to parties and bars and pick up another man, instead of looking after her daughter. Well, what was left of her. Her mind was falling apart, slowly but surely.

She rubs her eyes, and wrinkles up her forehead. What's her name again?

_Sa...chiko?_

No, no, that isn't it.

_Sango?_

_Sayuri?_

She claws at her face with her sharp nails, frustrated and fed up. Something warm and wet dribbles down her cheek. She looks down at her hands. Her fingertips are stained with blood.

"A-ah!" She scrambles away, trying to escape from her own hands, "Get off me! Get off me!"

She wipes her hands on the carpets fiercely, and tears started to fall from her eyes.

"Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me."

The pain in her head is powerful, so much so that all she can do is scream and cry and there's a little voice whispering in her ear that she should take the pills in the bathroom.

Maybe she should.

"Go on," The voice encourages her gently, "I'll hold back the hurt for a moment. You can do it. You can do it. You can do it."

"Okay." The words of agreement tumble so easily out of her mouth. And, suddenly, the pain fades away to nearly nothing, only the faint throb in her brain to remind her that it's still there. She breathes in shakily and gets to her feet.

One hundred steps to the bathroom. One hundred steps to her death.

The bathroom cabinet looms in front of her, but she's not scared. She's not, she's not.

She reaches up a pale hand and opens the door. On the bottom shelf there's a bottle of white tablets.

"Aspirin?" She murmurs, slender eyebrows drawing together.

"Drink it down with vodka." The voice pipes up sweetly.

"Alright." She picks up the little bottle and pads downstairs and pulls the vodka from the shelf in the kitchen and unscrews the lid. She takes a whiff from the nose of bottle and frowns.

"It doesn't smell nice." She says, sounding disappointed.

"Drink up." The voice purrs, and that's what she does. She empties the bottle of aspirin into the bottle and starts to gulped it down, her eyes squeezed shut.

Hmmm. She drops the bottle and looks around. Everything looks slightly fuzzy around the edges.

The pain in her head is gone though.

She lies back on the cool floor. Her body feels so warm and she feels so tired. Maybe she should sleep.

Her eyes flutter close.

Sleep was always the best solution to any problem.

"Well done." The voice whispers, and with that, she falls asleep.

_x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x_

When she opens her eyes she's in a white room, covered by thin sheets and her stomach hurts. She tries to move her hand but a tube is sticking out of it.

"What the-" She struggles to sit up, but her body hurts too much.

"Sasori-san?" Someone says, and she glances up. A man wearing a long lab-coat is observing her from the end of the bed, a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other. He must be a doctor.

"Who's that?" She replies.

The man frowns and writes something down.

"You're Sasori." He says gently.

"Oh." She doesn't know how to reply, "I forgot my name."

"I see." He tilts his head and continues writing.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Sasori sits idly and studies her surroundings. She must be in a hospital. It's the only logical reason. She searches her mind for any recollections of the previous hours, but there's nothing. All she can remember is falling asleep on the kitchen floor.

There's one thing she notices.

"The voice is gone." Sasori mutters.

The doctor blinks.

"Pardon?"

"The voice is gone!" She shouts at him. Her throat hurts. She winces and rubs her neck, but for some reason her eyes become watery and she hates herself for showing such weak emotions.

"What voice?" The doctor asks, but she ignores him and glares out the window, her arms crossed against her chest.

"Sasori-san, what voice?" He repeats.

Her mouth tightens into a grimace and she closes her eyes.

The doctor accepts that the conversation is over and pats her leg.

"I'll see you soon, Sasori-san." He says, and Sasori hears his footsteps fade away and the door shuts with a click.

Sasori runs a hand up her arm, tracing her fingers over old scars and recent cuts. The pain she feels when she picks the scab off one of the gashes feels like a relief. She scrapes hard at the wound with her fingernails, her face blank.

_I hate myself. _She thinks calmly. _I hate myself._

For some reason, she feels faintly relieved. The only true feeling she had ever felt was hatred for herself, and her love for art.

She dabs her fingertip in blood and paints flowers up her arm. Finger-painting was always her favourite activity when she was little.

Someone bursts into the room. Sasori jolts, hiding her arm behind her back, her coppery chocolate eyes wide.

It's her mother. She doesn't look upset – just angry.

"What have you done?" Her mother shouts at her, and she looks at the smudge of blood on the pristine white bedsheet and grabs the arm hidden behind Sasori's back and glares at her.

"What the fuck are these?" Her voice rises into a demonic screech, and her clammy hands smear the beautiful scarlet flowers that swirled up her right arm.

Sasori didn't reply, she just kept her eyes down.

"I just wanted my arm to be a garden." She whispers, "With eternal roses."

Her mother slaps her hard across the face and Sasori accepts it, the sharp stinging pain is nothing new.

"I'm sorry Mama." She says quietly.

"You're useless." Her mother retorts, stepping back, stabbing a bony finger at her, "I give up. You might as well have died. In fact, I wish you _had_ died!"

With those cruel words said, she whirls around and storms out, slamming the door behind her.

Sasori covers her face with her hands.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs, and her palms become wet with tears, "I'm sorry."

She sits in silence, wishing and waiting for her mother to return crying and apologising, but that would never happen.

Even the person who gave birth to her didn't like her. No one liked her. She didn't even like herself.

It seemed like Sasori had been doomed to suffer alone.

_x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x_

_Well, that's the first chapter. Sorry it's so terrible, I haven't written anything in a lo-o-o-ong time. My apologies._

_Feel free to review, as I promise I'll update quicker if you do. _

_Constructive criticism would be lovely. _

_Thank you for taking the time to read all of this! ^u^_

_~Momo_


End file.
